Page:Plays by Anton Tchekoff (1916).djvu/186

178 we mustn’t praise her too much; we shall spoil her. Where is Trigorin?

. He is fishing off the wharf.

. I wonder he isn’t bored.

[She begins to read again.

. What are you reading?

. “On the Water,” by Maupassant. [She reads a few lines to herself] But the rest is neither true nor interesting. [She lays down the book] I am uneasy about my son. Tell me, what is the matter with him? Why is he so dull and depressed lately? He spends all his days on the lake, and I scarcely ever see him any more.

. His heart is heavy. [Timidly, to ] Please re- cite something from his play.

. [Shrugging her shoulders] Shall I? Is it so interesting?

. [With suppressed rapture] When he recites, his eyes shine and his face grows pale. His voice is beautiful and sad, and he has the ways of a poet.

begins to snore.

. Pleasant dreams!

. Peter!

. Eh?

. Are you asleep?

. Not a bit of it.

. You don’t do a thing for your health, brother, but you really ought to.

. The idea of doing anything for one’s health at sixty-five!

. One still wants to live at sixty-five.

. [Crossly] Ho! Take some camomile tea.

. I think a journey to some watering-place would be good for him.